


Exposure

by wendymarlowe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Exhibitionism, Gags, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5314229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymarlowe/pseuds/wendymarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "I don't care how or why, but I want Mycroft's significant other (whoever that may be) to gag him somehow and then make him go out into public."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exposure

Greg put his arm around Mycroft’s shoulders and gently steered him to the left, toward the more crowded of the two paths in the park. Mycroft hesitated a moment, breathing in deeply through his nose, but didn’t object.

“Don’t be like that,” Greg said quietly, trying not to smirk. “I mean, I’d say ‘smile,’ but . . .”

Mycroft mumbled something unintelligible through the ball gag. Greg had very carefully pulled Mycroft’s scarf up over the lower half of his face, obscuring the gag from public view, but they both knew he could yank on the scarf at any time and Mycroft would be exposed for all to see. He was doing well - walking almost normally, despite the plug up his arse, and the heavy coat obscured the small bulges the nipple clamps made under his bespoke dress shirt. Greg knew Mycroft was itching to touch them, to relieve some of the pressure, but Mycroft’s self-control was truly extraordinary. And incredibly hot.

“Cameras,” Greg murmured. “How many can see us right now? You don’t have to point; just turn and look.”

Mycroft’s eyes narrowed, but he dutifully slanted a look off to the left, toward the gates at the entrance of the park, and then another deliberate twist of his head to gaze meaningfully at a maintenance building to the right. Greg grinned and tugged Mycroft toward the lee of the building.

“Think anyone’s watching us right now?” he whispered, pointedly turning them so the movements of his mouth would be obscured by the back of Mycroft’s head and they were reasonably shielded from any actual passers-by. It was cold enough outside for most of the usual pedestrians to be elsewhere, but the park was still plenty populated. They could pass for two normal blokes just having a conversation - as long as Mycroft could keep a straight face. Which Greg had every intention of testing. “I bet your team have the feed from that camera pulled up as we speak. Trying to make sure I’m not a threat to your person.”

Mycroft gave him a _look._

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Greg felt around in his coat pocket until his fingers found the little rubber buttons of the remote. Only the sudden widening of Mycroft’s eyes gave away the fact that the plug in his arse had just started buzzing. “You know _exactly_ how threatening I can be when I want to.”

 _That_ got a gratifyingly honest reaction. Mycroft clenched and unclenched his hands into fists at his sides, holding his body perfectly still, but his breathing had noticeably sped up and his pupils went enormous almost immediately. If he hadn’t been on the edge already, he was getting there very soon.

“This looks like a maintenance shed,” Greg murmured, drawing a bit closer so he could talk directly into Mycroft’s ear. He could see Mycroft’s Adam’s apple bob sharply, even though the thick fabric of the scarf. “I’ve got the vibrator on the lowest setting right now, but I’m going to bump it up every thirty seconds. And when I run out of settings I’m going to yank your trousers down and replace it with my cock. I highly suggest you get us inside that building before that happens if you don’t want your security team to actually get an eyeful.”

Mycroft sucked in a sharp breath. His hesitation only lasted until Greg nudged the button in his pocket up a click, though - apparently the threat of being buggered in public was credible enough to get him digging out a small set of lockpicks (because of _course_ Mycroft still carried lockpicks, the poncy arse) and ducking around the corner of the building in search of the door.

Greg sauntered slowly afterward, counting to thirty in increments and trying not to grin at the muffled yelps coming from somewhere ahead of him. Mycroft had some delightfully filthy kinks, as it turned out - and Greg was thoroughly enjoying the chance to indulge him with each and every one.


End file.
